Under Abnormal Conditions (2 page)

“Me? Not really. The only thing people really
want in this world is attention, especially older people. They have
so much knowledge, but most of us are too stupid to just sit and
listen. Taking five minutes out of my day meant the world to
him.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“No, I’m serious. That man probably doesn’t
have a thing to live for. He probably found that money somewhere
and was just trying to make it stretch. Basically he is just
waiting for God and in the meantime he wants some good
conversation.

“Well, I’ll know how to handle him next time.
By the way, someone dropped off a package for you earlier.”

“For me? Candy? Flowers, maybe? Mona, I
didn’t know you cared.”

She swatted me away and said, “It’s in your
office. Oh, and Dex wanted to talk to you.

“I guess that means he is going to be at work
tonight?” I asked, but she didn’t answer. Dex was Dexter Jackson
and he was her part-time lover, but my fulltime nemesis. He was a
small time hustler with Hollywood looks and a ghetto mentality
which brought a cloud of negative energy everywhere with him.

Parallel to the bar was a set of stairs that
lead to the club owner’s office, which was strictly for closed-door
business. Phil would occasionally leave names at the bar of people
to be allowed upstairs.

I walked from behind the bar and headed to
the back of the club, where my office was located. I hung up my
coat and picked up the odd shaped package that sat on my desk, but
just before I began to open it, I heard one of the incoming
musicians passing by the door mention Phil. I had hoped maybe he
wouldn’t be in, but as usual, my luck was like a certain hunter’s
when trying to catch that elusive little gray rabbit.

It was for the best because I wanted to talk
to him about taking some time off soon. I left the office and began
my usual routine of checking deposits and receipts. Just as I was
finishing, I heard him approaching. I knew it was him because he
always whistled the old Bobby Darrin song, Beyond the Sea, and
after he left a room he left a trail of ashes behind him. He had a
terrible habit of flicking his ashes on the floor instead of using
an ashtray.

His name was Phil Reighton. He was about
fifty-two years old, and about six-feet tall. His thinning brown
hair was cut in a flattop. He had a neatly groomed mustache with a
goatee and striking blue eyes to complete his package. Even with a
bit of a portly belly, he seemed to be in reasonably good shape for
a man of his age.

“Mikey, how are you this evening!” he asked
as he slapped me on the shoulder. “You making me some money?”

“Yeah, we are doing fine, Mr. Reighton . . .
but I would like to have a word with you later on.”

“No problem. Oh, Kevin Turner is not going to
be able to work security tonight so you’ll have to handle any
flare-ups. I’m going to interview a few acts and then we can get
together. One more thing, call me Phil,” he smiled and walked
away.

I didn’t want to call him Phil, because I
didn’t like him. He knew I hated being called “Mikey”, especially
by him. Maybe it was just the way he said it. It was almost like I
wasn’t a man, but just a little boy who didn’t deserve his time or
respect.

I knew exactly what he meant by interview. It
was his way of saying he would be in his upstairs office with the
flavor of the month girl. If his wife called, he was ‘interviewing’
a new act.Dealing with Phil was not the only problem I had to deal
with at work. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her coming.

“I need to talk to you,” she said as she
walked into my office and closed the door. I felt a cold chill run
through me because not only was Sherry Allen the subject of my
final project, she was Michelle’s mother.

Chapter 4

Even though she was in her mid to late
forties, Sherry was still an attractive lady. Her face had only a
few lines of dignity to reveal her age. Her long dark brown hair
was usually in a ponytail. She had a very soft face with delicate
features, and an almond-shaped pair of dark, unrelenting eyes.

I knew Michelle from high school. She was the
girl everyone in high school had a crush on. There was always
something that made her different from the rest. Even though she
was beautiful and graceful beyond her years, she was a genuinely
sweet person. She was a striking young woman, tall and voluptuous.
Her dark brown hair barely kissed her shoulders. She had alabaster
skin with deep blue eyes. Her bright smile and perfect teeth left
me in a daze. Even at that time, she was easily the most beautiful
woman I had ever seen. And to top it off, she was a singer.

She was the reason I was hired at the club in
the first place. My best friend, Trey, and I happened into the club
as I was celebrating my twenty first birthday and she happened to
be singing that night. She didn’t waste her voice with today’s
tired and overly produced music. She sang standards, the type of
music that helped my grandparents fall in love.

Even though I was painfully nervous, I
managed to work up the nerve to talk to her after her set was over.
She had the type of beauty that would make any man at least a
little unsure of himself not to even mention the race issue. In a
town that small, dating outside your race was still something that
could haunt a family for a lifetime.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence,
I told her how I had something of a crush on her in high school.
She turned as red as a fire engine and said how flattered she was.
I thought that would be the end of it, but she asked me to wait for
her that night and we stayed there in the parking lot until three
o’clock in the morning, just talking.

I told her about the end of my marriage and
football career and she told me to come back the next day and talk
to Phil about a job.

“Is Phil around?” Sherry asked bringing me
back to reality.

“I think he went upstairs. Can I say
something first?” I asked.

“What’s on your mind?” she asked as if I had
a lot of nerve in stealing her thunder.

“I know it has been hard on you, the last
year. I wish I could do something to make the situation better
and-”

“Stop,” she shouted. “Michael, I’ve heard all
of this before. I know it already. It was hard to even come back to
work here. Just knowing you were here made my skin crawl. I hate
you. You took my daughter away from me!”

“You know I didn’t have anything to do with
what happened to Michelle. I loved her.”

That was a mistake. Before the words were out
of my mouth, she slapped me.

“Don’t you dare say you loved her.” Her chest
rose up and down as she tried to restrain herself. “I will blame
you until they find the real killer. She was killed because she was
dating you so you might as well have done it yourself.”

“Sherry, we don’t know if that is why-”

“Shut up. Don’t tell me what I know,” she
raged. “It’s been a year and the police have given up. They just
looked at her as some white girl who was dating a nigger. They
don’t care. I know you say you are trying to help, but if you
really want to help me, find my daughter’s killer.

“You know I’m not a cop anymore,” I answered.
“You saw to that.”

“I’m trying to put my own life back together.
I’m sorry, but I can’t worry about yours. I’ve got another daughter
to raise and she needs all of me. If you want forgiveness, find my
daughter’s killer.”

I was floored by what she said and I had no
idea of how to respond, so I didn’t. “I’ll be out on the floor if
you need me.” I said as I closed the office door behind me.

I quit the force to investigate Michelle’s
disappearance full time and I had only recently tried to go on with
my life. Sherry’s other daughter, Sara, was eighteen months younger
and a bit of a bad girl. Growing up in Michelle’s shadow couldn’t
have been easy when she was alive so it had to be impossible after
she disappeared.

“What’s up, Doc?” I heard a voice shout. I
turned to see it was my best friend in the club, Joey. I hoped she
wouldn’t ask me about church yesterday.

“Did you make it to church yesterday? That
was something, huh?”

“No I didn’t get a chance to go. Maybe next
week.”

“You have been saying that a lot here lately.
What’s the problem?” she joked.

“It’s everything. I’ll have to tell you
later,” I knew she understood. I trusted her, but not only did the
walls have ears, so did the floor, the ceiling and so on.

“I’ll call you tonight,” she whispered
confidentially.

Her God-given name was Josephine Leigh
O’Connor. She was a part-time waitress and singer. She was like a
fresh-faced angel, with a smooth soulful voice that seemed
misplaced in a young Irish girl. Although she was in her early
twenties, she had a childlike innocence that was refreshing. Her
curly brown hair spiraled down to her shoulders. Her cherubic face
was highly animated and she had the most beautiful green eyes that
always beamed with life.

Even though there wasn’t much said, I always
felt better after talking to her. She knew I wasn’t perfect, and
she accepted it. She had the type of infectious personality that
made you smile when you looked at her whether you wanted to or not.
Not only was it room brightening, it was life brightening. She
seemed to care more for my soul than I did.

I started gathering trash and headed to the
back of the building. With all of the problems I was having at
home, I considered work my only place of solace, but that was
fading quickly.

I got to the stockroom, threw my trash away
and opened the back door and walked outside. On days like that one,
I would often find myself standing in the doorway, staring outside
at the small church right behind our building. It was just like the
church my grandfather used to preach in.

Something inside of me died the night he
passed away. It’s more than the fact I couldn’t be there with him.
It was more in the fact he was the mentor my military-minded father
never could be. There was always something special about a
grandfather and grandson relationship. We never worried about the
way we were supposed to act everything just came naturally.

I suppose my life could have been worse, but
sometimes I just didn’t know. Is it better to live alone in the
world feeling guilty or not live at all?

I couldn’t imagine the pain Sherry was going
through. Even though we weren’t getting along, I still had my
parents and when I lost my grandparents, I was able to go visit
their gravesite. I had a place to grieve, but she may never have
one.

“And just where are you?” I heard her
familiar voice ask.

“What?” I answered and turned to see Joey
standing behind me.

“What are you doing back here? I thought you
were going to work the floor?” I asked.

“Mona asked me to throw some boxes away
before I came up front. I know that you said we could talk about it
later but something is definitely wrong. What’s going on?”

“It’s the same old thing. I don’t know where
my life is going. I had everything planned out. Everything was set
down to the last detail. But now . . .” I couldn’t even finish my
statement. I silently shook my head in disbelief at the wreck my
life had become.

“You want to go get some coffee after work?
There’s a new little coffee shop that just opened up downtown,” she
said softly.

“Thanks, but I’m really tired and I’ve got
some schoolwork to finish.”

She snickered a bit and said, “I still can’t
get over the fact you are in school. Maybe you should just bring
your teacher an apple and come out with us tonight. Don’t you need
a break?”

“Yeah, I know, but I’ve got responsibilities.
What can I do?” I answered.

“You can go with us. Alicia is going to be
there,” she said with a sly grin on her face. “You do remember her,
right?”

“Alicia. About five foot two, one hundred and
ten pounds, shoulder-length black hair, pouty full lips, golden
skin, hazel eyes, and a walk with more twists than a soap opera.
Yeah, I think I remember her.”

“I thought that might change your mind. She’s
going back to school soon. If you want to come with, call me.”

“I’ll see what I can do. If I don’t make it,
tell Alicia I said ‘helllloooo’.”

Still grinning like the devil at a heavy
metal concert, she turned and strolled away. It would have been
nice to get away, but I knew I had too much going on for that.

I closed the backdoor and headed back to the
front. Just as I reached the doors leaving the stockroom, a
seemingly angry young woman hailed me.

“Excuse me, do you work here?”

“Yes, ma’am, can I help you?”

She moved past me so her back was facing the
door to the back office. As I turned to face her, my back was
facing the bar.

“Don’t turn around,” she said in a whisper.
She put her hand on my cheek just to make sure I wouldn’t. “There
is a man at the bar that will not leave me alone. I told him I am
not interested, but he won’t quit.”

“Ma’am, you’re an attractive lady. I’m sure
you have had many men approach you. Maybe-”

“Yes I do, but that’s not the issue. This is
different,” she said as she tried to glance over my shoulder.
“Please do something.”

I turned and walked over to the bar. It
wasn’t hard to pick out the man she was talking about. He was
having a discussion with Mona that seemed to be getting out of
hand. She exhaled with relief when she saw me coming towards
her.

He looked at me and said in a calm and
deliberate, “An excellent wife is the crown of her husband. But she
who causes shame is like rottenness in his bones.”

Mona and I just stared at each other for a
moment. He was a white man with a full beard and glasses wearing a
light trench coat and rain hat.